


Wormhole

by orphan_account



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Anal Sex, I'm Serious, If you're not down to see hux get graphically stuffed full of tentacles don't read this, Let's Have a Good Time Online, M/M, Notice that nowhere in pairings does it list Reader/Loving God, Oral Sex, Other, Quintuple Dicking, Tentacle Sex, The rathtars are REALLY serious, dead dove do not eat, lots of tentacles, ok dubcon, on further review I should definitely tag the dubcon here, sorry guys my bad :(, this is serious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-02
Updated: 2016-03-02
Packaged: 2018-05-24 08:23:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6147580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hux's uniform picked the worst day to dissolve in....WORMHOLE! The rathtar wasn't hungry for Hux's sweaty, ginger, and soulless flesh, but for his LOVE. Never Forget Tentacle Tuesday.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wormhole

**Author's Note:**

> Credit to Liberlubellaart on tumblr for inspiration. Apologies to NOBODY, you deserve NONE

It was strange, the way fear could warp even the most mundane sights and sounds. Hux had heard a blast door slam closed behind him thousands—maybe millions of times in his life aboard the First Order’s warships.

It had never made him jump in his skin like this before.

General Hux felt the blood drain from his face as he glanced behind him. That door had been his only escape from this hold—it was going to be a long and embarrassing wait indeed for Lord Ren if he…

When he heard a growl in the darkness, Hux turned to face the shadowed expanse before him. His pulse began to race between his ribs. His skin was slick against the metal of his blaster as he made sure the safety was off, stepped forward despite the fear that was gripping his body.

“Show yourself,” he said to the darkness, sneering at the shadows in the cargo hold. “You are being detained by the First Order, and–”

His words broke into a strangled cry when a rathtar burst out of the darkness, its tentacles flailing at Hux. He fired, leaning into the recoil of his blaster as he pumped plasma bolt after plasma bolt onto the monstrous alien beast.

But the creature’s armor deflected the blaster bolts like they were darts shot from a toy. One of them ricocheted—a plume of white steam rose from the barrel it had hit.

Seeing that the Rathar was still coming, Hux turned to flee for the door—but a tentacle whipped out faster than his feet could move. He cried out as it lifted him above the floor, kicked in vain against the slick, muscular tendrils that began to wrap themselves around his sweaty, ginger and soulless flesh. He was going to die like this—was going to die crushed within the supple strength of the Rathtar’s grip, choked in the fumes that were leaking from the storage barrel he’d accidentally shot out.

But the more he struggled, the less interested the Rathtar seemed to be in drawing him in toward its mouth. It was solidifying its grip on him, reinforcing its clutch on his limbs by wrapping more glistening tentacles around him, creeping beneath the fabric of his uniform to creep along his bare skin.   He heard his breeches’ fabric tear and looked down, mouth agape in horror, to see a tentacle—no, two or maybe three of them—wrapping around his leg. This thing was _tasting_ him, he realized. It was holding him tight up against this wall, high above the ground, his clothing in shreds, because it wanted to enjoy this. It wanted to savor his flesh, take its time satisfying its hunger for…

Hux was suddenly very aware that one of the rathtar’s tentacles had moved upward to coil around his cock. It tightened.

Despite his fear, despite every fiber of good judgment in his mind, despite the likelihood of imminent death that flooded the room thicker than this strange gas, Hux let out a tiny moan of pleasure.

Hux, who had dominated planets, who had ended the lives of more people than he would ever meet, who held an army in his right fist and the government of the galaxy in his left—Hux shut his eyes and pretended for a moment not to be aware of the sensation of the tentacle coiling around his cock, pulsing tighter, slick and soft like a man’s tongue against his rigid flesh.

But he could not deny that those sounds were coming out of his throat—those were his hips pushing back against the Rathtar’s lecherous grip. That was his mouth forming that loathsome word, that humiliating syllable that kept drifting past his ears.

“Please,” he whimpered, and he could not deny it was him. “Please, please–”

As another ominous rustling grew louder behind him, Hux’s voice trailed off. He turned his head to see another Rathtar advancing, creeping along on its abundance of swollen tentacles.

He wasn’t sure what he expected it to do—perhaps join the first rathtar in exploring the flesh of his thighs, probing between his buttocks, teasing him with those slick lengths of powerful otherworldly muscle. Instead, it turned its attention to the first rathtar, entwined some of its tentacles with the ones it wasn’t using to violate Hux.

When another groan escaped his throat—this one of frustration, as the rathtar’s tentacles slowed their squirming against their skin—the second rathtar drew nearer still. It extended a fleshy tendril toward him, flittering up the little indent of his spine, slithering along the pale skin of his neck. With little effort it parted his lips, pushed inside Hux’s mouth, warm and slick and pulsating.

Of course he began sucking on it, stroking it with his tongue as the thing’s companion stroked his cock with its tentacles. He wasn’t stupid enough to deny this thing its perversions. No, Hux was going to live to serve the First Order another day, even if it meant subjecting himself to a mouthful of rathtar tendril.

He couldn’t tell which of the beasts was beginning to probe at his ass, pushing ever so gently inside him—then a little less gently. Perhaps it was both. There was certainly more than one of the tentacles at work, stretching him open little by little as they fit more and more of their girth inside.

The creature evidently enjoyed the vibrations Hux’s throat made as the tentacles began to squirm deep inside him, feeling for his prostate as another began to wrap itself around his balls. Was he the first human they had used like this? Were they going to let him go when he was done?

He realized that he was no longer being pressed up against the wall—indeed, the rathtars had picked him up between them, gripping his body even as it writhed with a pleasure unlike any he had ever known. Their tentacles squirmed against each other, against him, as if the creatures were vying to see who could slip more of their hot, glistening tentacles inside his sweat-slick body. Had his mouth not been full of rathtar as well, he would have screamed aloud as they pushed him closer, closer, and then finally over the brink of orgasm, his body thrashing while his cock erupted onto the creatures below him.

Suddenly, one of the rathtars let out a pained squeal—Hux yelped in surprise as the tentacle withdrew from his mouth. He was falling, flailing—he was naked on the floor.

The first rathtar appeared to be hurt. It backed into the shadows, mewling, pursued by its companion.

Hux got to his knees, then to his feet. All that was left of his uniform was his boots—impervious to whatever bizarre chemical was in the fog that was filling this room. The fog, yes. The fog. The fog was what had caused him to lose his composure. The fog.

He turned around and made his way toward the blast door—surely, there wasn’t a password to get back _out_ of the storage hold.

 

****

 

On the other side of the viewport, the universe laid itself out at Hux’s feet. He stood before the transparisteel with his hands behind his back. He listened to his ship, listened to the fierce machinery of the First Order working behind him in perpetuity, bringing discipline to the galaxy, bringing systems to submit to the Supreme Leader’s will—to Hux’s will.

It was almost with a smile that he turned to Lieutenant Mitaka as the young man approached.

“Sir,” he said. “We’ve received a communique from Bala Tik. He says the Rathtars you requested are being prepared for delivery to the _Finalizer_.”

Hux looked back out to space, kept his face very still and focused his eyes on a distant star.

“Did he also obtain the cannisters of Ammonium Bofa?” he asked.

Mitaka cleared his throat. “Uhm.” He glanced at his data pad. “He did not indicate–”

“Make sure he has the cannisters delivered with the rathtars,” said Hux. “In the same hold. The Supreme Leader has given me _very_ specific instructions for taking this shipment.”


End file.
